Fated Meetings
by Duochanfan
Summary: Sherlock is investigating a new case, when it comes to interviewing the victim's son, he meets Captain John H. Watson for the first time. This is only the beginning of a relationship that will define them both. (Eventual Johnlock.)
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Well, here is another new story. It's half way finished already. So I do hope you enjoy it.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter One**

Sherlock Holmes sat across from Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, staring at him and making the other man slightly uncomfortable with the scrutiny. The older male had called him in earlier that day, to come and look over some of the notes for a case he was working on. Sherlock had read through them quickly. He went over the photos with an air of distaste as he realised exactly who had taken the slightly out of focus pictures.

"Anderson really needs to learn how to do his job, especially in how to take a proper picture. You should send him back to University, though maybe nursery would be more on his level." Sherlock said as he looked up from the notes he was re-reading and the pictures he was glancing through.

"Sherlock," Lestrade said in exasperation, "just tell me what you think?" he prompted him, leaning on his desk as he looked at the young man sitting across from him.

"I need to see the scene first and to talk with the son about the victims." Sherlock told him, ignoring Lestrade's question. Sherlock hadn't even bothered to look up from the notes he was once again going through.

Lestrade shook his head and sighed. He should be used to the young mans attitude and stubbornness by now. He had known him for four years, and had worked with him for just as long, "Sherlock, I'm not going to let you talk to him, there is no way that I will let you do that to the victims son."

Sherlock finally looked up from the notes and said, "I need to talk to him to know what he thought about his parents during the time leading up to his discovery of his parents bodies. And what his parents were like during the times that he was in contact with them. I need to know if there was anything that was different about them. What they told him before their deaths could be important. Sergeant Murray will be able to give me that, you can't because you don't ask the right questions. At the moment, I have nothing but a break in gone wrong, and I know that there is more to this than meets the eye." he finished in a huff.

Lestrade shook his head again, sighing, "Sherlock. There is no way on earth that I will let you go and see him. You're not good with people, witnesses, victims, or anyone. Just look through my notes instead." He shook his head, "If you have a specific question you want to ask, just tell me and I'll be the one to ask it," he then suggested.

Sherlock jumped up and began to pace the office, "Not good enough. I need to talk to him personally, to see his reactions. I need to see the scene for myself as well. There is most likely things that you and you incompetent officers have missed, and that goes treble for Anderson. I have no doubt that a lot of the evidence has been ruined thanks to Anderson's blundering ways." He then paused for a moment and looked to him, "And caring does not help me investigate crimes. It does not help me in catching the criminal."

The Detective Inspector sighed and rolled his eyes, "Sherlock, empathy helps get what you need from people. Try it some times. As for the crime scene, well, maybe in a day or two. I'll go back and you can come with me, I have some things to do before hand."

Sherlock huffed in annoyance; he looked to Lestrade and then looked to the notes once last time. He turned around and then without another word, he left the office. Sherlock wondered what he could do next, it was still early in the day. First he needed to check on one of his experiments back in his flat. He called out for a taxi and headed home for a while to take care of it.

XxXxX

After an hour of messing around, his experiment was back on track for the third phase. The recent result written down, ready to join the previous ones. Sherlock got ready to leave once again and opened the front door of his flat and looked round the door. He grimaced when he saw his next-door neighbour standing outside her door. The woman lying in wait for the young man to leave the flat.

"Oh Sherlock," she smiled as she walked over to him. Her smile was faked, as always, and the perfume she wore was over powering, and not a pleasant fragrance at all.

"Miss Franks," he said, keeping the revulsion off his face, but only just, "sorry I can not stop, I have work to do today." He added as he side stepped around her and quickly made his way towards the stairs. It had been like that for Sherlock, since the moment he had moved into the block of flats. The woman hounded him, asking him out for coffee and dinner dates. Not only that she had taken to knocking on his door whenever she noticed he was at home to bring him food. It irritated the man and he hoped that he would be able to get out of there soon.

He took the stairs two at time as he rush away from her, ignoring the shout that she was bring him some dinner for him to eat later. Sherlock came to the ground floor; happy he was away from her. He then sighed when he saw his landlord at the exit to the flats. He stood right next to the exit for the flat. Sherlock knew he wouldn't be able to get away with the man seeing and catching him.

"Holmes!" came the angry call from the man as soon as he spotted the world's only Consulting Detective.

"Tibbs," Sherlock nodded as he walked towards the man.

"I'm getting complaints about you again. You playing the violin at all times during the night. And the smell coming from there as well. Just what the hell are you doing in that blasted flat!" he yelled, as he looked Sherlock dead in the eye.

"It is important for my work." Was his only answer, trying to move around the man, only to stop when Tibbs moved as well to stop him.

"I don't care. If you want to stay the rent is going to go up." Tibbs told him, his brown eyes narrowing.

"Fine," Sherlock sighed, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get going. I have work to do."

"Fine Holmes, I'll post the new rent though your door later on. Just make sure to pay, and try and keep the noise and smells down. Open the fucking windows for a start!" Tibbs called after him as Sherlock once again rushed off.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the drama and walked out of the flat and to the street. He put up a hand as he shouted "Taxi!"

It didn't take long for a black cab to pull up. He gave the driver the address of the barracks that he needed to go to. He would be talking to Sergeant William Murray first. The case that Sherlock was now working on was that of Anita and Scott Murray. Their twenty-nine year old son had returned home on leave, only to find his parents beaten to death in the living room of their home. Sherlock wanted to know what he could about the man, about his parents and what was going on around the home.

Sherlock looked out of the window as they started to head out of London. He wondered a little about what he might be able to learn from William Murray.

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**Well, another first chapter. I do hope you have enjoyed it. I shall be posting this every week, as long as I get the chapters edited.**

**To keep up with my updates. Click on the link to my Tumblr in my profile.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Well another chapter for you all. Introducing John!**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Two**

Sherlock walked into the main office of the army barracks and looked around. The room was painted in green, the same green that screamed military. There was a desk and a few chairs dotted around the room. There were a couple of pictures on the walls, depicting training and combat situations. Sherlock walked towards the desk and looked to the man sat behind it. He looked tall and muscular, his uniform pristine and perfect. Sherlock pulled out the ID that he had pick pocketed from an annoying Lestrade earlier. He was grateful that the ID didn't have the mans picture on it, otherwise he would be able to do what he was about to.

"DI Lestrade, I need to speak to Sergeant William Murray." He said as he showed the ID to the man.

The man, a lieutenant, but what Sherlock could tell by the markings on the uniform, "What is your business here DI Lestrade?" he asked him.

"I'm here on official business," Was Sherlock's answer, "It is up to Sergeant Murray if he wants you to know." He added.

"Yes Sir," he nodded as he stood up, "I know about the murder of Sergeant Murray's parents three weeks ago. Gather you are here about that." He quired a little.

"That I am," he nodded, the Lieutenant nodded again as he led the way.

"I hope you catch the bastard who did it Sir," He said as he opened another door after a couple of minutes of silence. "He's in there at the moment Sir. He is naturally upset." He added as he gave a nod of respect to Sherlock.

"Thank you Lieutenant," he said as he then entered the room. The door shut silently on him and he looked around the recreation room. There was a pool table, TC and sofas around the place. A large number of things where people could relax after a hard day of training.

There were only two men in the room at the moment. Sherlock kept close to the door, as he took the time to observe them both. One was tall, slim and his hair was a dark brown. His shoulders were drooped and what he could hear of the voice, it was weary. Sherlock was quickly able to deduce that the man was Sergeant William Murray. The other man was short, more compact muscle. The face was kind, showing worry, sympathy and concern in the light blue eyes that were looking to the man sitting before him.

"Who are you?" the sandy blond haired man asked him as soon as he noticed the stranger in the room, "Why are you here?" there was a slight frown on his face as he asked.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, I'm currently working with DI Lestrade. I need to speak to Sergeant William Murray. I can see that you are not he, but the man sitting down is. So may I ask your name?" Sherlock asked him as he walked closer to the two of them, stepping around the sofa to reach them.

"I'm Captain John Watson," the man answered as he stood up. His voice was calm and steady as he moved closer to Murray, as though protecting him.

"Please to meet you Captain Watson." He nodded in greeting, as he now stood before John.

"Please, call me John." He said as he held out a hand.

Sherlock took it and gave a firm shake as he said, "Please call me Sherlock, John." John nodded in agreement.

"Hey Doc," the man said as Jon turned to face him, "It's all right. I can talk to him, anything to find the one who killed them."

"Doc?" Sherlock questioned as he observed John. "Hmmm, more than just a doctor though. A surgeon I would say."

John blinked a few times, "yeah I am. How?" he asked and then shook his head, "doesn't mater." He murmured as he sat down on the sofa across from Murray, Sherlock sitting next to him.

"I am Sergeant Murray," the brown haired man said softly. Sherlock observed the man a little, the grief he was feeling was written all over his face, "But please call me Bill."

Sherlock nodded his head as he began to ask his questions, "First thing, when did you last have chance to see your parents face to face and was there anything unusual about the visit?"

"Christmas. It was my last leave. I spent the holidays with them." He answered him, "But there was nothing out of the ordinary when I visited, they were as they usually were. Happy that I was home safe."

Sherlock thought for a moment, "When did you last hear from them, a letter, email, phone call, that kind of thing?" he then asked, "and was there anything unusual about it?"

"I talked to them over Skype, the day before the police say they were murdered." He informed him softly, "still can't believe that was only three weeks ago. They were happy, told them that I was coming home on leave in a weeks time." He murmured, head down as he tried to control his emotions.

"How did they sound to you?" he asked another as he clarified, "Happy, scared, angry about anything. That kind of thing?"

"Nervous, they sounded nervous. Scared of something. I could tell that they were keeping something from me. I did ask, but they brushed it off. So I decided to leave it. I was going home on leave soon enough, thought it might be better to ask them when I got home." He paused for a moment. "Mum did mentioned that they had upgraded their security. By what I could figure from what they said, there were sensors and alarms everywhere. It was odd, because nothing had happened in the neighbour as far I knew. Though they could have kept something from me." Bill answered as best as he could.

"Did they mention anything about the area, new people showing up? Things happening in the neighbourhood, just small things. Like a neighbour moving? Anyone that they mentioned, that they usually didn't?" he then fired a few more questions towards the grieving man.

Bill frowned and shook his head, "I don't know. I don't think they mentioned anything like that at all. They always kept everything up beat when they sent me anything. Emails and calls, always happy, letters too. They always did that, always so scared that I would come home in a box." He said, his voice beginning to shake as he tried to think of all the calls, emails and letters that his parents had sent him over the last two months.

"Sherlock," John called out, looking worriedly towards his friend. Sherlock turned to John as the doctor continued speaking, "I suggest that you slow down on your barrage of questions, or better yet, stop and let him have a break."

Sherlock sent John a frown as he asked him, "Why?"

"Not good Sherlock," he shook his head, "too many questions, to quickly, and much too soon as well. Bill is still trying to come to terms with what has happened and finding them. And yes while we are used to such type of sights in combat, finding those we care about in that type of situation isn't normal. He's grieving." John told him as he stood up and joined Bill on the other sofa, he put a hand on Bill's shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze, "Bill, go and have a lie down for a bit. Get some rest and let yourself calm down."

Bill nodded a little despondently as he stood up, "yeah." He then walked out of the room, leaving the two alone.

John waited for the door to close as he turned to look at the man, "What do you think happened?" he asked him. He hadn't wanted to ask while Bill was in the room.

Sherlock ignored John's question as he looked through the man as he said, "I need to go to the Murray house. I believe the answers to this case will be there."

"What?" John frowned, wondering what the man was going on about.

Sherlock stood up and began to walk away. He froze and then turned, looking down at John as he asked him, "Why don't you come with me? You will be able to tell your friend what I learn."

"I don't know if that would be a good idea," John shook his head, looking up at the man.

Sherlock smirked at him and gave a dry chuckle as he spoke, "You want to know what I'm thinking? What I am going to be doing? What I find out? Then come with me." He paused for a moment as he added, "Surely you will be able to leave for a little while to help me with my investigation. And to make sure that justice is served for your friend."

John sighed, he had to admit to himself that he was interested in what the man was going to do, "Fine, let me go and sign out first."

It didn't take long for the two of them to be sat in the back of a black cab. Speeding towards the Murray family home.

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**Thank you for reading so far, I do hope you are enjoying this story. Thanks for the reviews so far!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Hope you like this next chapter.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Three**

Sherlock paid for the cab as they stepped out of it. John had been to the Murray family home only once before. It had been the last time that the two of them had leave at the same time. He looked around the neighbourhood; it was a quiet place, which suited the two people that lived in the house. Most of the people living in the small cul-de-sac were those that had retired. There had been no children around during the time John had been staying there. John quickly followed Sherlock as he headed towards the front door.

"Sherlock, I don't think that is a good idea." He winced as he saw that the other man had knelt down and was picking the lock on the door. John had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, that something was going to happen. It was a feeing that had saved his life on a number of occasions.

"It will be fine John, don't worry so much." He said as he looked up with a smirk, the door clicking as he then opened it.

John sighed, "I can't believe what I'm doing." He was annoyed at what he had been talked into.

Sherlock chuckled dryly, "Don't worry John, it's time for an adventure." his eyes alight with humour as he looked to John.

John rolled his eyes as he followed Sherlock inside. He watched as the man went around the living room quickly, looking at things. Sherlock went from one place to another, muttering a little to himself. John himself had a look around. He didn't think anything had changed except a recent picture Bill had sent to his parents almost a month ago.

"The mother is extremely proud of her son being in the Army. The father not so much, but there is a shared love of classical music. I believe that the father plays the piano, that is over in the corner, while his son has learned to play the flute." Sherlock said as he stood straight.

John looked over to him and frowned in puzzlement, "How do you know all that?"

"The pictures on the wall are mainly of her son, most of them are of him in uniform, or pictures sent home by him. They are religiously cleaned, showing her pride in them. Some of the other pictures are not as clean as these ones. Also, the chair over there by the bookcase and stereo, there are classical music CD's around it. On the bookcase there is sheet music. There are a lot of classical piano pieces. But there is a growing number of Flute pieces, not used often, the piano music is. There is also a case on the top shelf, if I am not mistake, which I am not, it holds a flute." Sherlock explain as he looked over to John, wondering what the other thought of his deductions.

John gave a startled laugh as he said, "That was amazing."

"Really?" Sherlock asked, a little startled.

John looked to him and nodded, "Yes, it really was. You learned all that from the simple talk you had with him and what you saw around the house?" he then asked in awe of what the fascinating man had just done.

"I observed," Sherlock shrugged, "I observe what we all see and put it together. I use what I can do to help people, even when they tell me to piss off."

John gives a laugh, as Sherlock joins him, "Can you see anything that will help with this case?" John then asked. He could easily see people telling Sherlock to piss off.

"Not here, but I haven't finished looking around yet." He answered as he started to go around the house and look for what may be the answer.

John watched and followed as Sherlock moved from room to room around the house. He then ended up entering the main bedroom on the second floor. John walked over to the window and looked out as Sherlock began to look around, once more he was muttering to himself, and John had to wonder if he did that when he was on his own at a crime scene. It spoke of loneliness to John, and it sent a pang of sadness through him.

"Sherlock," John interrupted him as he looked out of the window to the garden of a property over the back of the house. Something had come to the Captain and he wondered if Sherlock had thought of it.

"What is it John?" he asked as he turned to look at him, he was lying on his stomach, looking under the bed.

"What about if they saw something. There are no net curtains here, so people can easily see them and they can easily see out. There is another garden at the back of the property. They have a really high fence and there is someone a little shady over there at the moment. It gives me a bad feeling." John told him looking over to him.

Sherlock jumped up from where he was lying on the floor and rushed out of the room yelling, "You are a genius John!"

"Sherlock?" he called out as he looked to the garden and saw another two people enter it, "Damn," he cursed as he rolled his eyes and then took off after Sherlock, "that man is going to end up dead if he does this on his own all the time." he muttered under his breath as he darted down the stairs.

John rushed out the back door and into the garden. He could hear yelling coming from the other side of the high fence at the back of the garden. He huffed a little as he wondered just how fit the thin looking man was. He climbed the fence quickly and jumped over. There were now four men surrounding Sherlock, each of them going towards Sherlock to attack him.

One started to throw a punch towards Sherlock as he ducked out the way and John grabbed the arm and twisted it, hitting him on a weak point and knocking him out. With that the other three quickly moved. It took a few moments for Sherlock and John to subdue them all. But they were soon knocked out as they could hear a car start up and drive away on squealing tires. Sherlock glanced in the direction as he heard it.

"You are nuts, you know that." John gasped out, "I haven't ever done anything as crazy as that." He huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

Sherlock looked to him and grinned, "I do believe you are the crazier one, you are invading a country at the moment after all."

John laughed, "I'm not alone in that one though."

Sherlock nodded and laughed a little, "The cops should be here in a moment." He said, "I sent a text to one of the ones that are around here."

John nodded as the two waited, though there wasn't long to wait as almost six cops quickly pilled into the backyard. John looked at them all and then to Sherlock as one of them walked over to the younger man.

Sherlock looked to the woman approaching him and said, "These are the ones responsible for the death of the Murray's. The Murray's witness someone being killed in this very garden three weeks before their deaths. There is a bloodstained patch of grass and earth over there that had been disturbed slightly; someone tried to hide it by digging in the garden. I suggest you make sure Anderson starts wearing glasses from now on; how he could have missed it I don't know. You will have to search for the body, though one of those could easily tell you." He explained what he had figured out as he looked from her and pointed around the garden. "Another two have escaped the area. Car, from what I saw, it is a dark blue Mercedes Benz." he then added.

"I'll call Lestrade to come down." She said with a nod. "I'll tell them to keep an eye out for the car as well." she nodded.

"Fine." Sherlock nodded.

"Erm, I need to head back to base in a moment, if you need a statement or something, can I do so now?" John asked as he noted the time.

"Sorry sir," one of the younger PC's said as he went over to John and asked a number of questions, taking his statement along with where he was staying at that moment in time, "Someone will come and see you for a proper statement later on." He then said when John had finished.

"Well, I need to go." John smiled as he went over to Sherlock, "Hey, Sherlock, I need to get back to base. Thanks for taking me with you. I need to tell Bill what you were able to find out."

"All right, I shall see you around." Sherlock nodded, a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, that would be nice." John smiled back at him.

With that John was able to get a ride back to the base with one of the officers. He went over to a well-rested Bill and took his aside and told him what Sherlock had been able to figure out about his parents murder.

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**Thank you for the reviews, I love them all, they are wonderful. I do hope you continue to enjoy reading this fic.**

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	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Here is another chapter, hope you all enjoy it. A little OOC for them I believe.**

**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Four**

John nodded to Bill as he walked out of the barracks and into the yard. He needed a little fresh air. A Sergeant from New Scotland Yard had come by yesterday for a written statement. He was just glad that he didn't have to go down to the station to do it. He headed towards one of the other buildings when he heard someone call out his name.

"John!" came a slightly familiar voice as the doctor turned around to see who it was.

"Sherlock," John chuckled and frowned, wondering what the man could be doing there, "What are you doing here?"

Sherlock grinned a little, "I was bored, and since the case is over, I was wondering if you wanted to talk. You are rather fascinating to me."

John laughed, "I don't know if I'm fascinating at all, but sure we can talk. I wouldn't mind getting to know you. you're just as fascinating to me," he grinned at him.

Sherlock nodded as John led the way to a more secluded area and sat down on a low wall. Sherlock quickly sat beside him as silence descended on them.

John was the one to break it as he asked, "So what is it that you actually do with the police?"

"I'm a Consulting Detective, the only one in the world. When the police are out of their depth, which they are most of the time, I step in to help them solve the case." Sherlock explained, "I also do cases that come to me privately. Though they are very boring most of the time, so I turn a lot of them down." he finished, glancing over to the man sat beside him,

"Like to keep things interesting then," John nodded, he could understand that a little. He didn't know what he would do if he wasn't a surgeon or in the army.

"So," Sherlock said as he gazed over to his new friend, "What do you do exactly?" he wondered.

John chuckled, "There isn't much to me. I'm an Army Surgeon, I was with the RAMC, but I joined the Army as a combat solider about five years ago now. I've been deployed in Ireland, Sierra Leone, Iraq and Afghanistan, which is where I am at the moment." He told him, a smile on his face. "What about family?" he then asked.

"A brother, my parents are alive as well, though I haven't seen them in quiet some time. They have been travelling, enjoying their retirement." He paused for a moment, "As for my brother, Mycroft annoys me. He is always watching what I am doing, keeping his beady little eyes on me." He huffed a little.

John frowned at the words, "Why would he do that?"

Sherlock went silent as he wondered if he could trust John enough to tell him without the other walking away. Those that learnt, always thought the same, once an addict always an addict, and while that was true. He did his best to keep clean. John looked to him, he could see that there was something troubling him.

"Look, you don't have to tell me, but I doubt there is anything that can drive me away." He told the taller man, hoping that it would reassure him.

"Very well." He sighed a little, "I became addicted to drugs when I was in my late teens. That was until almost five years ago when I over dosed. Lestrade, who is a DI with Scotland Yard, was the one who found me. He and my brother conspired together to get me into rehab. I went, and stayed there through six months of tedious therapy. Lestrade said he would give me cases from the Yard if I stayed clean."

John was a little shocked that someone that appeared so smart could do something like that. He knew that there would have been some underlying cause to it in the end, "Why take them?"

"As you have seen my mind doesn't stop, its constantly working. Sometimes I just want it to stop a little, or to bring something into better focus, that's what the drugs did. They either stopped my mind or brought things into better focus." Sherlock answered him honestly. He couldn't believe that he was telling an almost stranger some of his darkest moments in life.

"Are you clean now?" John asked, he believed he knew the answer to that already.

"Yes," Sherlock said and saw the belief in him, "Just gone four years. I am tempted at times, but I haven't yet."

"Don't. Don't you ever give in. If you feel it start to overwhelm you call someone. Or go and be with someone. Do some writing or reading or anything to take your mind off it. But what ever you do, don't give in." John said, his voice shaking a little at the thought of Sherlock going down that path again. He didn't know why he felt so shaky at the thought of someone he just met being addicted to drug, he just was, "My parents are dead, my dad to alcoholism and mum, well, she became ill when I was little, dad couldn't cope without her and took to drink. When he was sober, it was great. But as soon as he started drinking, it was an entirely different story. My sister has followed in his footsteps. If she carries on the way she is going, she has around ten years left before it kills her. If she stops, then she has a good chance of a long life. I don't think I could handle someone else going through addiction." He said with a soft shake of his head, "I know that you will fight against it for the rest of your life. But just don't give in to it at all." he almost pleaded as he looked to Sherlock.

Sherlock looked to him, a little shocked at the reaction, but nodded when he saw the worry in the pleading blue eyes, "I will do everything I can to make sure I don't." he promised to do all he could to avoid it.

John smiled softly, relief evident in his voice as he spoke, "Good to hear. To be honest, there isn't much to tell about me."

"I believe there is something more to you, but you know," he paused for a moment, "I would like to find out over time, you are a puzzle John Watson. You seem like the most upstanding man around, yet you were quick to follow me. The thrill of the chase, the puzzle, do they call to you as they do to me?" he wondered aloud as he looked to the older man.

"Though the last part wasn't so bad, I just had a feeling that told me if I didn't go with you, you would have been in trouble without someone to help you out of it." John snorted, smiling at Sherlock.

Sherlock chuckled dryly, "That has been known to happen." The two exchanged glances and shakes of their head laughing as they remembered what had happened two days ago at the Murray house. Sherlock's phone beeped, he pulled it out of his pocket and sighed, "It looks like Lestrade wants me at the Yard." he gave a small almost sad look towards John at the thought of leaving so soon.

"It was good talking to you. I wouldn't mind you stopping by again, and I can leave base you know." John smiled at him.

Sherlock nodded slowly as he pulled out a small card from an inside pocket, "Good, here is my number and information. Keep in touch as well. Maybe if I have time I shall come by again." He handed the card over as John took it from him, looking it over before tucking it away.

"That would be nice." He nodded back, still smiling at the other.

Sherlock returned the smile and then left John alone, heading to New Scotland Yard, wondering what Lestrade could want already. The man had only just closed a case for the DI.

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**Thank you all for reading. I do hope you enjoy this. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Thank you all for reading this. I do hope you are still enjoying it.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

John stood up from the wall and started to head back inside. He stopped when one of the younger soldiers ran up to him. The young man stopped before him and snapped a smart salute.

John saluted him back as he asked him, "May I help you?"

"Yes Captain. The Major has asked for you to join him in his office as soon as." he replied.

"Thank you, I'll head there now." he nodded as the nervous young cadet gave another salute and then rushed away. John gave a little frown as he wondered what the major could want with him. He headed towards the office quickly. It wouldn't do to dawdle.

John knocked on the door and waited to be let in, "Sir." he saluted as he came to a stop before the desk.

"Captain, there is someone who would like to have a private chat with you. I shall be waiting outside for when you are finished." He said as he gave a nod to John. It was then that John noticed the other man in the room

John looked to him, frowning a little as he saw thinning red hair atop a thin face, with a slightly too large a nose for it. He was dressed in a well tailored three piece suit. "May I ask who you are?"

"I don't think that concerns you at this point in time." He said with an air of authority, "At this moment in time, I wish for you to answer a question. What are you to Sherlock Holmes?" there was a hint of warning in the voice, but also, hidden underneath it there was concern.

John thought for a moment who would be concerned for Sherlock. It only took a few seconds for things to click into place and he could not help but chuckle a little as he looked to him with a slight smirk and said, "Well I think that would make you Mycroft Holmes then wouldn't it."

The man couldn't help but look a little shock, though he quickly regain his demeanour as he asked again, "I ask again what is your relationship with Sherlock Holmes?"

"At this moment in time, I believe we are friends. To be honest I don't mind the thought of us being friends at all. He's a rather interesting person." John smiled as he thought of his new friend.

"You truly believe that you could be friends already," Mycroft said with a shake of his head, "Sherlock doesn't have friends."

"I think he does, but doesn't recognized them as such. And I hope that I am becoming a friend to him," he told Mycroft.

"You are loyal very fast aren't you." He chuckled dryly, shaking his head in amusement.

John snorted in laughter, "Yeah, I guess I am." He shook his head a little as he then asked, "Are we done?"

"I will be keeping a close eye on you and on my brother." He said, emotions no longer on his face.

John frowned as he said, "I know that Sherlock has made mistakes in the pas. But he is doing everything he can to keep clean. Maybe if you back off a little things would go much smoother between the two of you."

Mycroft's eyes went wide as he asked softly, "How do you know about that?"

"Sherlock told me, about the drugs, the overdose and about you and Lestrade getting him into Rehab. He may not say it, but I can tell that he is actually thankful for that. But he's annoyed at the constant looking over his shoulder. As though you are just waiting for him to make a mistake." John told him a soft smile on his face, "You need to trust him again."

"It is the only way I can know what is going on with him. He doesn't speak to our parents. He doesn't even speak to me most of the time unless he has to." Mycroft said, there was a slight melancholy tone to his voice as he spoke.

"There could be a number of reasons for that. I think it would be better to let Sherlock decided when to bridge the gap between you all. Watching over his shoulder all the time just keeps the resentment going." He advised him.

Mycroft smiled as he said, "You know, you may just be a good thing for my little brother. I shall see you around Captain Watson, or do you prefer Doctor Watson?"

John smiled back and gave a smirk, "It depends on my mood, at the moment it's John."

Mycroft nodded his head, "Very well, goodbye John." He then walked past him and out of the office.

Major Donalds walked back and looked to him as he asked, "Is everything all right Watson?"

"Yes Sir, I just need to make a quick call to someone." John told him.

With a quick salute John was dismissed and he went over to the barracks where he could phone Sherlock.

"Holmes," came the voice on the other end.

"Hey," John smiled, "it's me John."

"John?" Sherlock was a little surprised that the other man had called so quickly, "What is it?" he asked, puzzled.

John chuckled, "I just had a nice visit from someone."

Sherlock sighed, "Let me guess, my brother."

"Don't think that was a guess, but you're bang on. He wanted to know what we are to each other. I did tell him that we are friends. Don't think he was too sure on that though. I think he was a little surprised that I knew who he was and about your past." John said, not wanting anyone to figure out what he was talking about.

"I don't talk to many people. And I don't really have friends." Sherlock said softly, "What do you think about coming to dinner with me tomorrow night, nothing fancy at all just a meal and some talking. Getting to know each other a little more." he then asked him, changing the subject completely.

John smiled and shook his head slightly, "You know, I could get away for that. It would be nice to have something other that what is made here. While the food is good, it's almost the same thing each time." He chuckled a little, "So yeah, dinner tomorrow. What time?"

"About seven, if convenient," he suggested.

"That would be just fine." He nodded to himself. "Well, I should go, and thanks for stopping by today. It was nice to see you again. I'll be going to the Murray's funeral in two days, Bill has finally been able to get it all sorted out."

"I can understand that. I will see you tomorrow for dinner." Sherlock grinned on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, and bye Sherlock." John said softly.

"Bye John," he replied as the two of them hung up.

John walked back to the barracks and met up with Bill. John told him a little of what had happened so far that day. About Sherlock and his over protective big brother. He left out the information about the drugs, since that was private business. Bill had then started to tease him as soon as John made the mistake of telling him about going to dinner with Sherlock tomorrow night.

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**Thank you all for reading so far, I'm so happy that you are enjoying this so far. Thank you all for the brilliant reviews as well, I love you guys!**

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	6. Chapter 6

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**CHAPTER SIX**

John was in civilian clothing this time, as he sat in the back of a cab with Sherlock. Dressed casually in a dark pair of trousers and his favourite blue shirt, that brought out the colour of his eyes better. He felt ready for the date he was on. He looked over to his new friend; Sherlock was looking out of the window and seemed to be a little nervous. John smiled a little as he looked out the window as the cab started to slow down as it reached its destination.

"We're here." Sherlock said as he paid the driver and got out of the cab. He waited on the pavement for John to join him.

John looked around and saw a small restaurant in front of him, "Looks nice." He grinned, as he glanced over to him.

Sherlock looked to him and grinned back at him, "Angelo runs it, as you can tell by the name. I helped him out of a spot of trouble two years ago, almost a year ago he opened this place. I tend to come here when I need to eat." he told him as they stood there looking at each other.

"When you need to eat?" John asked as they finally walked towards the door.

"I don't eat a lot, it slows me down too much." Sherlock answered him honestly.

"Your body needs food Sherlock," he told him with a shake of his head, "It needs the energy from it."

"I will be eating today, so don't worry. But I won't be eating as much as most I tend not to." Sherlock warned him, a small reassuring smile on his face.

John glanced at him as Sherlock opened the door and walked into the restaurant first and kept the door open as John followed him inside. John was about to say something when a booming voice called out, "Sherlock!"

A more muscular man walked towards them and pulled Sherlock into a hug, though John smiled when he could see the unsure look on Sherlock's face as well as the uncomfortable look that quickly over took it. The man let go and then spotted John almost hiding behind Sherlock. The man looked between the two of them and smiled widely, "Good to see you Sherlock, and you brought a date."

"It's a friendly dinner," John said as he looked to Sherlock, a little unsure.

"For now, Angelo." Sherlock smiled to John as he turned to Angelo, "do you have a table ready for us?" he asked.

"Of course, your usual table is waiting. I'll bring you a candle, it's more romantic." Angelo said as he wandered off to get one for them.

"Sometimes you can't talk him out of anything." Sherlock said with a shake of his head as he led the way to the usual table he had and sat down.

"So, what do you mean for now?" John asked, a little smile playing on his face.

Sherlock looked a little uncomfortable as he said, "You never know what could happen in the future. I've told you more than I've told my own family."

John nodded, "I can see that. Well, lets see how things go."

Sherlock nodded as he then asked a question he was unsure if he wanted to know the answer of, "When are you going back?"

"In three days." He answered softly, "My leave is over then. I get shipped to Bastion for six months."

The younger man frowned a little as he said softly, "That's too soon, much too soon."

With a slight chuckle, John told him, "We could always call each other, skype occasionally and we can even write letters to each other, which are always nice to have. There are ways to keep in contact you know. A friendship doesn't have to end if you are willing to keep fighting for it."

Sherlock smiled a little, "You're right. We should make sure we have each others details."

John nodded as Angelo came back with a candle and set it between them and handed them each a menu. It didn't take them long to decided what they wanted and ordered their meal. They talked a little about their past as they waited for dinner to arrive.

"So why did you join the army?" Sherlock asked as the waiter left and he started to eat his meal.

"My grandfather was in the army, and my uncle joined them to become an army surgeon. They would always tell me stories and things about it. So I decided to follow them, I wanted to see what they saw, I knew I wouldn't see the same thing, but I still wanted to go. I became a doctor and joined the RAMC, and after my time was up with them I joined up as a combatant." John answered him smiling, "I now tell my own stories to him." He took a bite of food and swallowed, "So why a Consulting Detective instead of joining the police?" he then asked with a curious smile.

Sherlock snorted a little, "They are slow and incompetent, Lestrade is the best of a bad lot. He sees and observes, but it takes him a little longer to put it all together. Anderson, would be good if he paid attention to things instead of wild theories. Donovan needs to get rid of her prejudice against people that are different. She is constantly turned down for promotion because of it." he told John of those he worked with on occasions.

"Let me guess you told them this, but they ignored it?" John queried, eyebrow raised.

The younger man nodded, "All the time. Lestrade is one of only a few that will listen to what I say and take it on board."

The rest of dinner and desert went well, as the two shared a little more about themselves. It didn't take long for it to be time for John to head back to base. The two sat in companionable silence as they headed back to the base.

"Here," Sherlock said as he held out a card, "All my details." Sherlock then handed him a small pad and a pen.

John chuckled as he wrote down his own details, "I don't know how often I can call you and that, but I'll try my best to do it as often as I can." He said as the cab came to a stop and the two got out. "Writing is more reliable," he told him

"Then I shall write more often. Good night John." Sherlock smiled as he tucked away John's details.

"I had a good time, thank you," John nodded, "Night Sherlock." he smiled back.

Sherlock watched as John walked away. He got back in the cab and headed home with a smile on his face, he felt content. John watched it leave as he then walked into the barracks. Bill Murray rushed over to him and gave him a look.

"What's going on between you and that guy?" he asked softly, keeping his voice low, not wishing to disturb anyone else in the room, though no one was asleep just yet.

"I don't have a clue. But he is amazing and so different from anyone else I've had dinner with." John smiled as he walked away.

Bill shook his head as he watched his friend, "You are falling for this one and damn fast too." He chuckled as he followed John.

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**Thank you all for the reviews, hope you have enjoyed this story so far. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**NaNoWriMo is almost here, around October I go into a state of hiatus until December. I will be posting until the 1st October, and won't be posting again until the 10th December.**

**Thanks go to Kizzia for the information about the Army, if anything is wrong, then that on me.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Seven**

It was three days later and John stood in the airport looking at the soldiers he was shipping out with. They were heading back to Camp Bastion, where some would be taken to other bases and the front lines. The three-week leave was normally long enough for John. Now that he had met Sherlock, he actually wanted a longer leave. It was just too short, as he wanted more time to get to know the young genius that he had met. John yawned a little as he sat back in one of the uncomfortable metal mesh chairs.

"Shouldn't have stayed up talking to your new boyfriend on the phone." Came Bill's smug and teasing tone.

John looked over to him and glared, "He isn't my boyfriend, he's a friend." He protested a little.

Bill shook his head, "You are seriously in the river."

"What?" John puzzled, a frown on his face.

"Denial." Bill sang as he chuckled shaking his head.

John huffed a little as he told his friend, "We're friends at the moment, but if it leads to anywhere, then that is fine with me." He couldn't help the little smile that made its way onto his face at the end.

Bill was about to say something more when someone called out John's name.

John moved and looked around, smiling when he saw Sherlock, "Sherlock, what are you dong here?" John said as he stood before his new friend, "You're not supposed to be here," he scolded, shaking his head at the man.

"It wasn't hard to bluff my way in." Sherlock smirked.

John shook his head and sighed, "Not good Sherlock."

"I wanted to say goodbye to you." Sherlock almost mumbled, a little embarrassed, "I didn't like the thought that I wouldn't see you for a while."

John smiled, "Glad you decided to come, even if you do get in trouble for this," he said softly, "If you ever need me, email me. We sometimes get the chance to go on for a bit each day. Depends on where we are and what's going on. Sending letters are best."

"I would like that." Sherlock smiled back.

"Good, I'll try and see about sending you an email when I land over there. Let you know how it went." John smile back, he could see the slightly hint of worry in his friends eyes.

"I would appreciate that." Sherlock nodded to him.

John smiled, "I've not had someone see me off before." it was tinged with sadness.

Sherlock frowned, "What? Why has no one come to see you off?"

"My Uncle and grandfather live up north, but of a journey for them. My sister doesn't like the fact that I'm in the army at all. She's scared for me, I know that." He smiled a little, "As for my parents, well they died when I was young." He gave a small shrug, not knowing what to say and not wishing to go into details.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Sherlock said softly, a little uncomfortable.

"John, we've got to go!" Bill called to his friend before he could say anything else to Sherlock.

John turned and nodded, "Sorry Sherlock," he said as he looked back to his new friend, "looks like I have to go, take care of yourself all right. Make sure to eat and sleep a little more."

Sherlock looked uncomfortable again for a moment before he quickly hugged John, surprising the other man as he let go just as fast as he had taken hold of him. "Do take care of yourself as well. I shall try and do as advised by my doctor." He smirked a little.

John chuckled, "I will do my best to keep safe. See you soon Sherlock."

With that John jogged to catch up with the others as Sherlock watched him go. He went over to the window and looked to the military plane that would take John away from him.

"I will make sure that the two of you will be able to reach each other when you need to." Came a voice from behind him.

Sherlock shook his head a little as he turned to see Mycroft coming to stand beside him, "And why would you do that?"

Mycroft looked from the airplane that would take John away, and glanced towards his little brother, "For the very first time you have opened up to someone. You have shown an interest in another person. I do not remember the last time that you have done such a thing. I can't help but want to make sure that you will always be able to talk to John. He has brought a side of you out that I thought was lost when you were a child." He said softly, his mind drifting over memories of their childhood.

"There is something special about him." Sherlock said as he looked back to the plane. "When I first saw him it was as though he lit up the room. He came with me on a case and he actually helped. He actually thought of something that helped me figure it out." He said softly, in awe.

Mycroft smiled at the rare show of emotion on Sherlock's face, "Then I will be doing everything in my power to make sure that you will be able to talk to him. Any time that you need that I will do all I can to make sure that I arrange it."

Sherlock looked to him and nodded, "Thank you Mycroft." He said as he then turned around and walked away. He couldn't deal with the thought of watching the plane take off and take someone away from him.

Mycroft watched him go, in shock a little. It had been the first time in a very long time that Sherlock had thanked him for interfering. "Maybe John was right, maybe I do need to back off a little." He sighed.

"What are your orders concerning the situation sir?" came a stronger feminine voice from behind him.

"Make sure a tight eye is kept on John Watson. If anything happens to him I want to be notified straight away. If anything is put on file for him, I want to know about it as well." Mycroft said as he looked to the plane one last time.

"Very well sir." She nodded as she made a note on her phone.

"I wish you well John Watson," he murmured, "Do keep yourself safe. I do not wish to be the one to tell Sherlock if something were to happen to you." He added, hoping that he would never have to do such a thing.

With that, he turned around and left the airport, heading back to his office. His assistant following loyally behind him.

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**Well, another chapter for you all. I do hope you have enjoyed it. Thank you for the reviews so far. I adore them. More to come soon!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't own BBC Sherlock, they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**NaNoWriMo is almost here; around October I go into a state of hiatus until December. I try and make one last post on the 1st October, no promises now. I will not be posting again until the 10th December.**

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**Fated Meetings**

**Chapter Eight**

John sat down at the laptop that had been set up in one of the many tents around Camp Bastion. It would be the first chance he would have to E-mail Sherlock since he had arrived two days ago. John couldn't help but wonder how the other man was doing. John smiled as he logged into his email account and began to type an email.

_Hey Sherlock_

_How are things in London? As you might have guessed it's hot here. But I'm used to it these days. I'm no longer used to the cold of London. We got in safe and sound, and I will be at Camp Bastion until my next leave, unless my unit is needed elsewhere. I should be able to get a few minutes online on occasions. I will be writing longer letters to you later on. Telling you a lot more, since I can spend a lot more time on it. _

_How are you Sherlock? Keeping well I hope. Make sure that you eat and that you sleep a little more than you said you do. It's important to make sure that you keep your body well rested and fed, it will help you a lot more you know. Especially if you go running off as I heard you do. Oh yes, I've had quiet the talk with the police officer that came down to take my statement. He told me that you are always running off. He said he heard it off of DI Lestrade, who you said you worked with most of the time. When you ran off on me in Murray's house, I was worried about you. Who knows what could have happened if I hadn't been there._

_Anyway, sorry for the rant. I just worry about you. What are you doing at the moment? Any cases at all? Or are you doing some more experiments and if so tell me about them._

_And do tell me what the weather is like back there, I tend to miss it when I am here. Even if I don't enjoy the cold anymore, I do miss London. Hopefully the next time I email you, I'll be able to tell you when I can get time to Skype or call you. And look out for my letter; it usually takes around a week. And I'll be sending it in around two days._

_See you soon _

_John_

John clicked the send button as someone called his name. "Coming," he wondered what type of emergency they were calling for him now. He just hoped he would be able to help. It would be another few days before he started to go out on patrol again. For now he would help out in medical.

XxXxX

Sherlock sighed as he checked his emails, going through the few cases that had been sent to him. He didn't even need to leave his flat to solve them as he sent off his conclusions. His face lit up and he smiled as he saw an email from John waiting in his inbox. He read through it and smiled.

_Dear John_

_It's good to hear that you are safe. I have to admit that I do not like the thought of you being out there, though I know you must. But do be careful, I do not wish for my brother to inform me that something has happened to you. I shall not be happy._

_For myself, I am bored, so bored. I solved a case for Gregson yesterday. He and Lestrade have a little rival going with each other. They are always trying to get one over the other. It can be amusing to watch if I mention the other to one of them. When you come back, I shall have to introduce them to you. I wonder what they will think of you._

_I was checking my emails, when I came across yours. I went through them and came across two very small cases, not really worth my time, but they gave me something to do for a few minutes. And they pay the bills. Some pay me well on occasions, and others don't pay at all. They were not even worth the time I spent on them to be honest. They bore me. I am hoping that I may have something from Lestrade or Gregson soon. I need something to really stimulate my mind._

_Yesterday was very tedious. I have this neighbour, and she is always trying to bring things over for me to eat and drink, things like that. I can not help but cringe every time I see her. I have tried to get it through to her that I am not interested at all. But she is not taking it on board at all. I do not know what I should do next. If you have anything that I might be able to use to get her off my back I would be forever grateful._

_I shall have to leave, just received a text from Lestrade, they have a nice serial killer on the loose. Love those, always something to look forward to._

_Do take care of yourself, and yes, do email me with a time to talk to you. I find I am missing your voice._

_Sherlock_

_S_herlock clicked on the send button as he then got up and pulled on his coat. He shut down the laptop and headed out of the door. Avoiding his neighbour, but only just as she had popped her head out of her door just as he went down the stairs. He just hoped that this would be a good case and that he could tell John about it when he got home and it was solved.

XxXxX

John chuckled as he read the email that had been sent to him a week ago. He looked at the slip of paper he had been given which had a time and date for him to Skype with Sherlock.

_Hey Sherlock_

_Thanks for the details on the case, sounds really interesting. Sorry it took a while to get back to you. Just returned from patrol and was given ten minutes to check emails and send any I need to. Hope you got my letter. Will be sending you another one in a few days._

_Right, I have been given a date and time for our skype call. The only reason I would miss this is if we are called out on patrol, which we shouldn't. Or there is an emergency on base. I am a surgeon and will occasionally get called to help out, even though I'm Army these days and not RAMC, but I do like to help out where I can._

_Right it's on the 14th March, at 2:30pm your time. So I shall be able to talk to you then. Take care of yourself Sherlock. And don't forget to email me when you need me. And thank you for the letter as well as the picture of London. Just where were you standing when you took that one?_

_John_

Sherlock smiled when he read the email. It was only going to be a week till be would be able to talk to John. Sherlock really wanted to tell John about the case he had just solved for Gregson. It was an interesting burglary. He was already compiling another letter for John, along with a few more pictures of London. He had even decided to send a picture of Lestrade and Gregson. It would be better for John to know what they look like. He also picked out a book he thought John might like reading, he was sending it along with the letter as well.

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**Thank you all for reading so far. I do hope you are continuing to enjoy it. Thank you for the wonderful reviews. You guys are great.**


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